Rhyme and Punishment
by softydog88
Summary: Castle and Beckett argue over a Star Trek movie. They make a bet about it, and the loser has to speak in limericks for the rest of the day. No murder this time, just a straightforward comedy. Takes place shortly after the engagement.


_Rhyme and Punishment_

Beckett was near the end of her rope. She had always found Castle's obsessions harmless, and some of them, like his insistence that kittens were God's way of testing men's resolve to be macho, were even endearing, but this time he was ruining a beautiful, bright, _free_ Saturday morning by not only harping on something of no importance, but being dead wrong in the process. She dared not tell him so, lest he dig in deeper, but the alternative, humoring him, was no better. He would sense it, and accuse her of not taking him seriously, a path they had gone down many times before, most notably when she too easily agreed that he would have made a better Green Lantern than Ryan Reynolds, despite having no acting experience. Maybe, she thought, if she pretended to be fascinated instead of just agreeing with him, he'd step back, flash that impish grin of his and declare victory. Then they could finally get out of the house and enjoy this atypical New York spring day.

"Castle, you're right! I never thought of it like that. It would be totally cool." Her smile, though forced, didn't betray her lack of enthusiasm.

"Cool? It would be way, way beyond cool. It would be the most awesome thing in the history of this planet! Commandeering an alien ship, using it to travel back in time and save Earth from its own shortsightedness. Re-populate a species and in doing so, save Earth from destruction. It's passionate, poignant, poetic...perfect!"

"But whales...really? Wouldn't you rather re-populate the _human_ species with me? I guarantee it would be a hell of a lot more fun."

Beckett knew she had made a huge mistake the instant she heard her own words. Castle looked at her with a look of such incredulity that she couldn't maintain eye contact. She could practically hear the gears turning in his head, and, despite staring at the floor, she knew he was approaching. He moved slowly, almost menacingly, then reached out and pulled her chin up with the tips of his fingers, locked his eyes on hers and smiled like the Cheshire cat. Beckett waited for him to pounce, but he just stood there, hands on his hips, grinning.

"Castle, get on with it. I know what you're about to say."

"No, no, no. _I'm _not going to say it. _You _are. You're going to tell me how, despite the fact that you insisted many times over the years that you've never seen Star Trek, you somehow knew exactly to what I was referring. I didn't say anything about whales."

"I dated a geek back when I was at Stanford. It's in Silicon Valley; what did you expect?"

"So this "geek" you dated took you to see Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home? The greatest Star Trek movie of them all? What other geeky things have you kept from me? Did you dress up as Princess Leia in the gold bikini for Halloween?"

"Castle, I..."

Beckett could see that he wasn't paying attention. She snapped her fingers in front of his face a couple of times.

"You're thinking about that right now, aren't you?"

Castle shook his head and snapped back to reality. "Can you blame me? You'd look great in that gold bikini."

"Ha, ha. OK, now you know. So, can we please go out? I hate wasting days off."

Castle put his arms around Beckett. "Of course we can." He kissed her, took her hand, and led her toward the door, then stopped abruptly.

"Hey, I have an idea!" he said. "We can go to the natural history museum and see the killer whale they have on display. It'll give us a better idea of what the crew of the Enterprise had to go through to bring them back to the 23rd century."

"What they had to go through? Listen, Sheldon Cooper, I hate to break it to you, but Star Trek isn't real. Besides, it was humpback whales, not killer whales."

Beckett froze, and swallowed hard. "_I can't believe I just made things worse_," she thought. "_But maybe he didn't hear me._"

He did.

"I beg your pardon, Beckett? Humpback whales? Listen, I know Star Trek IV like the back of my hand. I've seen it thirty times if I've seen it once. I've seen it on dates, in Central Park, on airplanes. I saw it sitting next to Nichelle Nichols on a Star Trek-themed cruise from L.A. to San Francisco, capital of the United Federation of Planets. We even took a tour of the city, visiting the places the movie was filmed, hosted by Walter Koenig himself. I have the VHS, Laserdisc, DVD and Blu-Ray. I have the special editions. I have a bootleg version signed by George Takei. I'm telling you, it was killer whales."

Beckett patted Castle on the cheek a couple of times. "You know what? You're right. I remember now. It _was_ killer whales." She opened the door only to watch Castle close it again.

"Beckett, you don't give up that easily. You're humoring me, but it won't work. I'll _prove_ it to you. I'll find the Blu-Ray and you make some popcorn."

"Castle, I am not going to sit here and spend two hours watching a movie with you when we can just Google it and get the hell on with our day."

"Fine. But...do you want to make it interesting?"

"You mean like a bet?"

"Not _like_ a bet. An actual bet."

"What do you have in mind?"

Castle rubbed his hands together like a silent movie villain hatching an evil plan and twirled an imaginary handlebar mustache. "If I'm right, you have to host a sci-fi theme party here, dressed up like Inara Serra from Firefly."

"OK. But if I'm right, then you have to take me out for a day on the town. _And, _you have to speak in limericks, all day long, regardless of where we are or who we're talking to.

"Deal." Castle held out his hand and Beckett shook it.

* * *

"I can't believe it was humpback whales," Castle said a few minutes later. He closed his laptop with a sigh and buried his face in his hands.

"That doesn't sound like a limerick to me, mister," Beckett said with a laugh.

Castle's eyes widened. He thought for a moment, then spoke, slowly.

_"I cannot believe it was humpbacks._

_My trivia skills have been set back._

_But consider my plight;_

_I could not sleep last night._

_Do you think you could cut me some slack?"_

"Not a chance. And I can't wait to hear what you're going to do with champagne brunch at the Four Seasons."

They left the apartment in silence and piled into a taxi.

"Where to?" asked the driver. Beckett made a motion of locking her lips and throwing away the key.

"The Four Seasons on fifty-eighth street," Castle said. The driver hit the gas, and Beckett elbowed Castle in the ribs.

_"It's a great place to stay or to eat._

_And that isn't all,_

_Because, if I recall,_

_Their receptions just cannot be beat."_

"You don't say. So, first time in New York?"

* * *

The restaurant was, predictably, crowded, but New York palms are there to be greased, and Castle, ever the corner-cutter, handed over a wad of bills.

"This way," said the maître d'. He led them to a secluded table with a spectacular view of a building totally obscured by construction equipment and fences.

"Will this do, sir?"

Castle just nodded and helped Beckett to her seat.

"Your waitress will be here shortly. Enjoy."

After a minute, the sommelier arrived with his nose suitably thrust towards the ceiling.

"We'll have the Krug Grand Cuvee," Beckett said.

"Excellent choice, madame." He spun on his heels and retreated in true French fashion, returning a few minutes later to make a ostentatious display of pouring champagne.

"Marvelous," Beckett said as she sipped the bubbly. Castle shrugged. Just then, the waitress arrived. Right away, they could both see that she wasn't cut from the same mold as the sommelier, thank God.

"What'll it be?" she said, looking at Castle. He held out his arm and swept it in Beckett's direction. She took the cue and gave her order.

"Got it. And you, sir?"

_"Well, to start, I'd like Eggs Benedict._

_And the fruit plate, if they're freshly picked._

_Add a café au lait;_

_I could drink it all day._

_And I do, 'cause I'm quite the addict."_

The waitress turned around, glancing in every direction. "Is this an audition?" she asked, before storming off.

* * *

"That was excellent," Beckett said as they stepped outside. "We should do this more often. What's next? Want to go for a walk?"

Castle smiled and took Beckett's hand in his. They walked over to 5th Avenue and turned south, reaching 51st street in silence. Beckett spied St. Patrick's cathedral.

"Castle, did I ever tell you I'm Catholic?" He shook his head.

"I was baptized right here, at St. Patrick's. Let's go inside."

They were looking at the baptismal font when a priest walked by. "Welcome," he said. "It does my heart good to see a young couple like you. When is your child due?"

"I'm not expecting, father," Beckett said. "We're not married yet. My name is Kate, and this is my fiancée, Rick."

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Father Steve. When's the wedding?"

"We haven't set the date yet. This is all still new to us."

The priest held out his hand and beckoned to the nearest pew. "Would you like to sit down and talk?" he asked.

Castle shook his head, but Beckett said "we'd love to." The priest continued to stand, facing them.

"So, what do you do?" he asked Beckett.

"I'm a homicide detective."

"Wow! That must keep you busy in New York. It's a selfless and noble profession, though." He turned to Castle. "What about you, Rick?"

Castle opened his mouth for a few seconds, then closed it and bit his lip. Father Steve looked at him quizzically.

_"Kate and I make our living off crooks._

_I'm a writer of mystery books._

_They get widespread acclaim,_

_And they add to my fame._

_And I do it despite my good looks."_

Beckett covered her eyes with her hand and Castle, his face rapidly reddening, stood up and walked quickly away.

"Is he OK?" asked Father Steve.

"Usually," Beckett said. "Well, sometimes. Right now, I'd say no, but the limericks are...let's say _penance _for being a little too full of himself."

Father Steve shook his head. "Vanity. I've seen it over and over. We get a lot of Wall Street tycoons in the confessional during Lent. Can't get them to come to church the rest of the year, though."

Beckett stood up. "Well, it was nice talking to you, father. Maybe I'll see you soon." She started to walk away.

"Call me, Kate. We'd love to perform your wedding ceremony. And we've got a great banquet hall." His voice grew dimmer as Beckett quickened her pace.

"Bingo every other Wednesday!"

* * *

"Well, that was embarrassing," Beckett said as she met Castle on the steps outside the church. "But I did put you in a pretty tough situation."

Castle nodded. They resumed their walk, but they had only covered a block when they were stopped by a wide-eyed woman who squealed when she saw Castle.

"Rick Castle!" said the woman. "You're my favorite author." She jumped up and down a couple of times.

Castle smiled at her in acknowledgment and tried to resume walking, but she put out her hand and stopped him again.

"I've got your latest book in my backpack. Would you please sign it?" She rooted around in her bag and produced a hardcover book and a pen.

"Just make it out to Marlene," she said. Castle scribbled a few words.

"Rick, one more thing? I'm an aspiring writer. Do you have any words of advice?" Castle nodded.

_"When in Rome, you must do as the Romans._

_In Chicago, be like the Abe Fromans._

_To continue the theme,_

_It would certainly seem,_

_In Chernobyl, be one of the glow-mans."_

This time, he and Beckett were able to resume their walk unhindered, leaving behind them a very confused Castle fan.

* * *

Their next stop was the New York Health and Racquet Club. They played a few games of racquetball, silently, except for Castle's grunting, groaning and wheezing as Beckett ran him ragged. Then they went for a swim, and finally, they headed for The Old Haunt. It was crowded, but most of the patrons were regulars who recognized Castle and Beckett the minute they stepped inside.

"Rick," said one of them, "you're just in time. We need a fourth for darts." Castle shook his head.

_"I can't really play darts with you, Jess._

_I'm too tired, and my aim is a mess._

_I just want to sit here_

_And have myself a beer._

_And forget about all the day's stress."_

"Yeah," said Jess, rolling his eyes. "OK."

After two beers, Castle and Beckett left The Old Haunt. As Castle put the key in his apartment door, Beckett stayed his hand.

"Castle, thanks for being a good sport about this. I know I put you through your paces, but you didn't sulk. You just played along. Thanks. Oh, and I release you from your bet. No more limericks."

"One more?" Castle said. "I've been working on this one all day."

"Really? Well then, have at it."

_"There was a young boy in a moat,_

_Who was saved by a mime in a boat._

_Said the boy to the mime,_

_"You came by just in time!"_

_Said the mime to the boy..."_

Beckett laughed. "Yeah, Castle, I can see that I stopped you just in time. Now let's go watch Captain Kirk and his crew save the whales."


End file.
